


Sooty.

by kfloser



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: AU, F/F, a puppy finds a puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9832595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kfloser/pseuds/kfloser
Summary: "Delia Busby, is that a dog?"





	

Brisk afternoon air crept through the gap under Patsy’s door, causing a tremor to run down her spine as she changed into her uniform. The bleak, overcast sky loomed outside the sanctuary of Nonnatus House, slowly depleting any happiness Patsy had acquired from spending the morning playing cards with friends. She stared intently at her reflection, “You look fine, Patsy,” Trixie spoke, her tone kind, but curt - Trixie was never one to lie. Patsy pinned back a loose strand of her soft ginger hair, turning to face the bleach blonde, with a half smile parting her lips. “You always look fine, it’s quite vexing, really,” Trixie continued, pulling her shoes on, and tying the laces carefully, but quickly. Patsy scrunched her nose up, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Thank you… I think,” she commented, before pinning her watch to her pocket, and exiting swiftly - nothing dared trip up Patience Mount, she moved too quickly and elegantly for anything to have the chance. She swept through the streets of Poplar like a soft summer breeze, leaving people smiling, and warm. 

Her eyes read the rota carefully - she was on call for the afternoon. Patsy quite liked being on call - it was quite like having the afternoon off, at least until the phone rang out, echoing through the house, beckoning somebody to answer it. Patsy strode into the kitchen, spotting a coy looking Sister Monica Joan lurking. “Sister, is something the matter?” Patsy implored, her arms folded across her chest. The nun simply smiled her enticing, trustworthy smile, and shook her head, her habit wafting around. Patsy raised an eyebrow, scepticism glimmering in her sea coloured eyes. Sister Monica Joan edged out of the room as Patsy stirred sugar into her coffee, her eyes focused on the swirling, dark liquid, so she didn’t make the Sister uncomfortable. “I’ve just seen Sister Monica Joan practically running outside,” Barbara walked through to the kitchen, her eyes aligned with black, puffy bags, and her skin pale. “She looked to be on a mission,” she added, sitting herself down at the kitchen table.  
”You have been on a mission, Barbara. You look exasperated,” Patsy cocked her head to the left, concerned with the health of her friend. As was the usual in Poplar, Patsy made the tired looking girl a cup of tea (well sweetened, of course), and sat down across from her, her own mug of Nescafe warming her hands. “Twins, only, one was breech,” the brunette rubbed her forehead as she spoke, as if she was ebbing off a headache, but feebly. “Well, I’m proud of you,” Patsy reassured her friend, with a compassionate smile. Barbara grinned, and stood. The other nurse pranced on her tiptoes, looking for the biscuit jar. “Have you got the biscuits?” She enquired, turning, with a rather stern expression painted on her usually relaxed features. Patsy just sighed, any annoyance made irrelevant by the grin playing on her lips. “I know who has,” she stood, shaking her head as she walked out of the room, and towards the front door, finding it open. 

”Sister!” Patsy called, spotting the elder woman about 4 foot away, and crumbling up biscuits. Surrounding her feet was a literal ring of pigeons. Patsy was wholly convinced she had never seen the grey haired woman look happier - her eyes were alight with joy, and her smile seemed to not break, as she dropped the crumbs on the ground. The kids that usually frolicked on the pavement all stood aside, watching with awe carved onto their faces. “Sister Monica Joan, I hardly think that’s a good use of biscuits,” Nurse Crane scorned, her car window rolled down as she pulled up beside the woman.  
”Nonsense! They deserve feeding as much as any other poor soul,” SMJ reasoned, dropping the last of the crumbs on the floor, and smiling down at her new-found friends. Despite all her unconvincing attempts to be serious, Patsy couldn’t help but snicker, muffling it into the lavender scented arm of her cardigan. Sister Monica Joan waved goodbye to the birds, as they scattered off into the clouds, each headed in a different direction. She walked back towards the house, as if she hadn’t just been surrounded by grey birds, and hadn’t just fed them every single biscuit Nonnatus House had. Patsy followed her inside, hoping she didn’t find the raspberry sponge hiding in the cupboard. 

It was unusual to have such a quiet afternoon - she’d checked the list of expectant mothers, and the only two listed to be expecting any time soon were the ladies Barbara and Phyllis had taken care of. Barbara had a delivery pack to deliver, and Trixie had a home visit, but that was it. Patsy rested her elbow on the darkwood desk, staring off into the distance. Whenever Patsy was bored, she liked to imagine what her very own sunbeam was doing at this time. Right now, Delia was most likely making beds, or fetching bedpans. But she’d make it look as beautiful as folding sheets could be - her hair would be neatly pinned back, and when the strands fell, she’d effortlessly sweep them back into place, with her azure eyes gleaming as she did so. Being beautiful was child’s play to Delia - she was a processional. She didn’t need the perfect lighting, or products. Delia Busby was an effortless angel. Patsy often wondered how exactly she’d got so lucky - to be in love with the girl with eyes the same colour as the Tenerife sea, and a smile so soft it made flowers irrelevant, and to have her love her back. It was such an astounding situation. Patsy wished she had someone she could gush to - someone that wasn’t Delia. “Nurse Mount, are you on this planet?” Trixie hovered in the doorway, her eyes laden with curiosity. Patsy’s cheeks heated up, and she shot up immediately.  
”Yes, sorry. Away with the fairies,” Patsy bought herself back down to Earth, where the after taste of coffee clung in her mouth, and the air smelled of Trixie’s sweet perfume, and freshly baked scones.  
”I’m off to see Mrs. Donovan,” Trixie quirked an eyebrow, “and when I return, we’re going to talk about who you’re so hopelessly in love with.” With that note, Patsy checked her watch, questioning where exactly her girlfriend was. 

Delia was never late, especially coming home. Whenever Delia was even minutes late, worry overlapped Patsy. The sheer fear that something had happened to her again made Patsy’s eyes well up, and her hands shake uncontrollably. Her mind spiralled, filled with ‘what if’s’, and ‘maybe she’s’ - all sense of reasoning left the door, gone with the wind. Patsy’s worried state was broken when she heard quiet scuffling from the back door. Patsy stood, clearing her throat as she approached the back room. Half in the door, and half out, was Delia Busby, with a grimace on her lips. “Hi, Pats,” Delia greeted the girl, clearly hiding something behind her back. Patsy raised an eyebrow in suspicion.  
”Are you going to tell me what you’re hiding?” She enquired, not falling for Delia’s angelic dimpled smile.  
”No. You’ll react badly,” Delia shuffled further out of the door, not realising Patsy could see the small, quick tail wagging. 

 

”Delia Busby, is that a dog?” Patsy kept her voice down to a whisper, but a harsh one. Delia’s lips formed an awkward, half apologetic grin.  
”He followed me home, Pats!” Delia stood aside, to reveal the dog sitting behind her. “I couldn’t say no to him, look at his face!” Delia exclaimed, pointing to the dog’s wide brown eyes, and shaggy fur.  
”Delia! We can’t keep a dog here! Does he even have a name?” Patsy stepped outside with the other girl, shutting the door behind her, but as quietly as possible.  
”I wanted to name him, with you. He doesn’t look that old,” Delia stuck her bottom lip out, pleading to Patsy’s humanity.  
”Delia,” Patsy whined, trying not to make eye contact with the big eyed pup, who’s tail was still wagging eagerly, not seeming to lose momentum. “Fine! Name him, and then we find him a home.” Patsy shook her head, and Delia bounced on the spot, leaning forward to kiss Patsy’s cheek.  
”I think we should call him… Sooty! No, no. Paddy? No. Sooty,” Delia was bouncing like an excited child, clapping her hands. Her excitement definitely appealed to Patsy’s humanity - there is no purer, or better feeling than watching someone you love bounce with excitement, their smile so large it was almost a given that their cheeks and jaw hurt, their eyes shimmering with undiluted joy. “Hi, Sooty,” Delia kneeled down, stroking the dog, and kissing his head. “Right, we find him a home, but I want to be able to visit him!” Patsy sighed, but nodded nonetheless, baring shocking resemblance to a disgruntled mother. 

They’d scoured all the houses of people they knew, pleading that they take dog, but everyone had declined, reasoning they couldn’t afford the upkeep, or didn’t have the time. “Deels, it’s useless. Nobody has the time nor funds to support Sooty,” the redhead’s tone was soft, as if she was trying to prevent the pup from hearing her words, not wanting to make the innocent being feel unwanted, or unloved. Delia huffed, a sadness setting on her features - her eyes dropped to stare at the dirty concrete beneath her pristine black shoes. Patsy placed a hand on Delia’s arm, and grinned, hoping to bolster the disenchanted lamb, “Don’t fret, we’ll find someone,” she bent over, stroking the dog, her grin remaining on her lips so she didn’t dishearten either of them. “You bare a striking resemblance to this puppy,” Patsy noted, wishing she could peck Delia’s nose, or place a hand on her cheek, or wrap an arm around her waist. Sometimes she’d walk the streets with Delia, internally scathing at anyone who dared be outside at the same time as them - their gazes meant Patsy had to shorten hers, and look at Delia for just the right amount of time; in reality, Patience Mount could stare at Delia until the sun set for the last time, and she took her last breath. There was always something to admire, be it a dimpled grin, or the crinkles that formed at the corner of her eyes when she laughed. “Let’s keep looking,” Patsy urged, walking ahead.  
“Who’s this little chap?” A chipper voice rang out from behind them, and they turned to see Tom approaching, a grin tugging on his lips.  
”Sooty - we need to find him a home, but one where we can still visit and see him,” Delia explained, watching Tom dote over the happy pup, who wagged his tail in response to the affection. Tom rose from kneeling on the ground, and shrugged his shoulders. “I could look after him - you’d have to supply the foot and walk him, but I can house him,” Delia’s dimpled appeared in her cheeks as she smiled, briefly turning to Patsy, who shared the enthusiasm etched on Delia’s face.  
”That’d be great!” Patsy replied, as Delia seemed to overwhelmed to reply. “We’d check in on him as often as possible, and supply food and treats and all the love the chap needs,” Patsy reached down, stroking the dog, who was overjoyed at all the attention he was receiving. Delia pouted, before handing over the makeshift lead to Tom. “He’ll be in good hands, Delia,” Patsy reassured the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll pop round later with supplies,” Patsy nodded, happy she’d found the dog a home. Delia bent down, enveloping the canine in a tight hug, grinning when he licked her cheek - despite knowing how unsanitary it was. “I’ll see you later, Sooty,” she waved the dog off. 

”You are the cutest thing, Busby,” Patsy looked down to the ground, her cheeks hurting from the smile that was painted onto her face. Delia’s cheeks flushed red, and she nudged her girlfriend, before wrapping her arm around Patsy’s. “We have shopping to do, there is a rather adorable puppy waiting on food.”


End file.
